Winter Loon(69)

“You look cold.” She reached up and brushed a layer of snow off my head.

I bumped her with my side and she bumped me back. We fell into step, our heads lowered. I stole a glance. She was smiling.

“Principal’s office?”

“Yeah. Truant.”

“See you at lunch, then?”

“Sure thing.”

Lester was leaning over the office counter, smooth-talking the school secretary, making eyes at her, giving her some elaborate story as to why the two of us had missed school. We would laugh about that years later when we heard she’d left her husband for the truant officer, who was also a woman.

“Mr. Ballot. Your friend Mr. Two Kills says you were indispensable to him as he dealt with an urgent family matter.” She tucked her chin tightly like she was passing an apple, then slapped her hands on the counter. “Mr. Two Kills, please stand up straight.”

The first bell rang. “We’ll take the detention,” I said.

Lester threw up his hands and groaned in disgust.

“Here you are, boys,” she said, and handed us each a slip of paper.

“Why’d you go and do that? I had her right here, right here,” he said, poking his palm.

“Sure you did.”

He laughed and stuck the slip in his back pocket. “Heard a couple girls talking about you this morning. Something about a teeny, tiny penis. My money’s on Kathryn.”

I let my head fall back. “Great.”

Lester slapped my back. “C’mon, pencil dick. Let’s get to class.”



ALL MORNING, GIRLS SWARMED ME, laughing, puckering their lips, mocking sympathy, waggling their little fingers. I imagined the story Kathryn might tell, rubbing her hands together, buzzing back and forth between her friends. It’s no secret that there are no secrets in a small town. By the end of the day, it seemed like the whole school had heard some version of Kathryn’s story that I’d either chickened out or petered out. Either way, it was a failure on my part and, despite the embarrassment, I was relieved. It was the dropped knife I didn’t want to hear about, and I was oddly grateful to Kathryn that she focused her retaliation on my manhood, not my character.



THE MORNING FLURRIES ENDED, LEAVING no real snow on the ground by day’s end. I’d made plans over lunch to walk to the library, then home with Jolene after serving detention. She marched up to me in the courtyard, arms loaded with books. “God, I cannot stand her.”

“You have a run-in with Kathryn?”

“Oh, she was talking shit with one of her stupid friends. Totem poles and squaw stuff. The usual. I wish she’d find another dick to stick in that big mouth of hers.”

I stifled a laugh, put my arm around her. “I’m so sorry. You want me to carry your books for you?”

She rolled her eyes. “Yes. Yes, I do. Here you go.” She thrust the pile straight at me, but I pushed them gently back. Jolene followed my eyes. Kathryn was walking alone in the other direction.

“Listen. I need to talk to her. Meet you at the library?”

“What about? This is ridiculous, Wes.”

“It’s about the house. That’s it. I need to make nice, at least a little bit. Maybe she can do something about the eviction.”

“I don’t trust her. She’s like the rest of them. I’m sure it makes her sick to think you’d choose me over her.”

“I choose you. I choose you. Every time.”

She stood on her tiptoes, books to her chest, and kissed me. “Be careful. And no joke, don’t make a fool of me for trusting you. I mean it,” she added, warning in her voice.

I drew an X over my heart.



I CAUGHT UP WITH KATHRYN at a low cement wall near the edge of the parking lot. “Hey, can I talk to you a minute?”

Her guard went up in a way that was almost visible, like she’d stepped into a gunnysack and cinched it up around her. She stiffened, looked around for witnesses. “What do you want?”

“Just to talk for a second.”

“So talk.”

When you can have whatever you want, you look for things to want that you can’t have. I’d always seen Kathryn as that kind of spoiled, someone who had everything, who wanted everything else. I was a novelty, something new in a town that didn’t change much at all. I’d figured that’s about the only reason she’d glommed onto me. I was too young then to understand much about girls and their cyclone thinking, but something inside me said she needed a win more than I did.

“The other night. I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings. I shouldn’t have let it go that far.”

She fumbled in her purse. “I can’t find my—shit. What was I thinking?” Her face flushed and tears welled in her black-rimmed eyes. “He grounded me. No car for a week. I have to walk.”

That fullness was there that I’d seen in her when I first got to town. She was a pretty girl for sure, and I hoped right then that she would be happy. I fast-forwarded years into the future, saw Kathryn with some go-along type like Drew Fullerton, no one with bluster like her dad. They’d have a passel of kids, all blond, all well fed. I mumbled again that I was sorry.

“Yeah, I’m sorry, too.” She glanced back at the school, like the building itself had been spreading rumors about me all day.